


Swept out to Sea

by Kikiro (kikirochan)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, F/M, M/M, Mermaids, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-08-31 19:36:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8590999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikirochan/pseuds/Kikiro
Summary: my muse has taken me to a land of faemysticism drowns me and dims the moodas i sit on the beach just to feel okaytheir love for me i can not elude





	1. Chapter 1

The beach was always calming to you. You don't know why this is, even as you had ran along the shore so many times, hot sand between your toes, the salt water lapping your foot prints away from behind you. When you found out an old, derelict cabin hidden up on the hill not so far from the water was for sale, you abandoned the too small apartment in the city you had been living in for the past two years, and bought the cabin.

Along the walls creep vegetation, a charming addition you supposed, and left them to continue growing. Inside, the floor was old, unpolished planks with only dirt beneath it; the walls were adorned with a few shelves, and otherwise barren of any furniture, not as if you needed any.

Waking up and being able to walk to the beach, watch the people, it was refreshing. You would often walk to the outcropping of rocks at the far end, where your favourite fixture of the beach stood tall, yet unused. The lighthouse was a plain white with an almost bell shape near the bottom, as if someone had made their home out of it.

As you sit at the base of the lighthouse one day, you hear a series of large splashes; very unlike how the water sounds as it crashes against the rocks. You abandon your sketch book in its little protective baggy to investigate.

You lean over the railing to spy if there is perhaps something floating in the water on the edge of the rocks, but you see no such thing. You turn around to resume sketching.

Immediately you are greeted by a young man who looks about your age.

“Hello there,” he says to you with a wide smile on his face, “Is this yours?” In his hand is your sketch pad, still in the bag, thank goodness he didn't help himself.

“Uh, yeah.” You reach out and take your belonging from him.

“You're an artist are you?” He cocks his head to the side a little.

You nod, suspicion rising.

“Oh, I simply love art. The purest form of humanity if you ask me.”

“Good to know.” You say coldly, walking past him and down the walkway, hoping to leave your new acquaintance behind.

“Would you mind if I saw some of your work?”

“Sorry, I'm not the sharing type.”

“That's quite alright, I think I'll be able to share enough for the both of us, then.”

He is still following you when your feet dig into the sand as you walk onto the beach.

“Did you know that a the oar fish is the longest bony fish in the world? They can grow up to about eleven meters in length! And! They live up to about five hundred meters deep! I think it's called the mesopelagic zone. Have you been there, it is simply exotic.”

You stop in your tracks and he practically runs into you, turning around, you look at him with this complete face of bewilderment as he simply beams at you. “You're asking me if I've been five hundred meters below the surface of the ocean?”

“Yes!” he chirps.

You continue to stare at him as you slowly respond with, “You can't really dive more than forty meters recreationally.”

His face falls. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” You continue walking away from him. “Don’t follow me. Creep.” The last part you add under your breath.

“I never caught your name!”

“Good.”

You don't hear him follow you, and you make it back to your cabin without a problem.

 

* * *

 

 

The people are out in droves today. Beach umbrellas propped up all over the place, children screaming as their parents watch on without a care in the world. It's annoying to say the least. Perhaps even the worst part of living near the ocean as you are. At one point, you leave your cabin and come across a couple making out in the grass. You do not want to think about what they would have done if you didn't shoo them off.

Staying far from where the edge of the water is swarmed with people, you walk to the lighthouse. Mayhaps you will be able to get some drawing practice in today.

As you step off the sand you are reminded to the last time you tried to work here and the pest that joined you. You hope he does not show today. Or ever again for that matter.

You get through three pages in your book before someone sits a little ways away from you. At first, you ignore them, hoping they'll leave you alone. They curse when you hear a snap, you look up at them.

They appear to be male, messy black hair that clings to his sweaty forehead, loose tank top that shows off enough muscle to attract your attention. In his hands is a sketch book, maybe a little bit bigger than yours, and a broken pencil. He catches your eye and his small frown turns into an acknowledging smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You look to your own current sketch in its incomplete form, then back to his broken pencil as he sighs in defeat and lets his hands slack at his sides. You're not really feeling this piece anymore.

You close your sketch book and put it back into the plastic bag, handing your pencil to the other.

“Oh, heh, thanks. You sure?”

“Yeah, take it.”

“Thanks.”

You watch the beach slowly empty and be swallowed with the tide. Eventually the thought of what the other might be drawing nags at your brain. You give in to the urge to look over. “You like dolphins?”

“Huh? Oh, no, they're assholes.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, you ever met one?”

“No…” Great, another weirdo.

“Right…”

The two of you sit in silence as the sound of breaking water and graphite on paper is all that fills the air.

“My name’s John, by the way.”

“Dave.”

“Nice to meet you!” his smile creates dimples and crinkles the edge of his eyes in a way that is almost hypnotic. You watch him for a little while, the smile faltering before falling all together as he looks away, into the far distance.

He is still, the sun begins its descent and colors the clouds a pink tinge. Then he stands, closes the book, and hands the pencil back to you.

“Thanks, see you around,” he says with a small smile before leaving in a hurry and disappearing behind the lighthouse, out of your view.

 _At least he wasn't as odd as the other guy_ , you think.


	2. Chapter 2

You decide to go swimming. A few days ago, you figured out the most secluded place to, and from, the water, as well as the best time to get down there. When the tide goes out, a beach of dark, flat rocks creates a staircase into the water. You spent some time drawing the geometric shapes before realizing all of this.

The sun is out, the gulls are chasing the waves, the water is otherwise devoid of life, and you make your way down to your secluded little beach.

You carefully walk down the rocks. Some of the ones at the bottom of the staircase are still covered with water and can be slippery. You stretch before walking the rest of the way into the water.

As always, the temperature is cold.

There is a sound, almost like music. You can only hear it when you are underwater. While muffled, it is incredibly beautiful, through vaguely haunting.

It draws you out, farther into the open ocean. You dip under the water every so often and hear it get louder, clearer. There is nothing out here, you cannot see the sediment, and when you look back you cannot see land even when you know you did not swim that far out.

You begin to panic, almost swallowing water after you flail your arms once.

Then something grabs your legs and you are pulled under very quickly.

The music is gone.

 

* * *

 

 

The water is shallow, it tickles your sides when it recedes, your skin is stiff, maybe sunburned. You open your sore eyes to a blinding sun above you and move your arm to shield yourself from its rays. You realize you are laying against a rock.

Someone giggles.

A girl stands in front of you, seemingly naked, an arm holding her steady on the rocks against the gentle lap of water. Her wet, dark hair draping down like a curtain, clinging to her skin, travels down and fans out into the water and around her body. Supple breasts with large pink areola and a flat stomach disappear into green scales that stretch into a long fish-like tail, billowing fins fill the area around the end, similar to that of a betta fish.

“Dave,” She says fondly. Your name brings your attention up to her eyes, a mesmerising bright green framed with golden specks which cascade down the side of her face.

You sit, her full lips stretch into a smirk. “My brothers have taken quite the liking to you. Now I see why.” She leans closer to you, a hand finds itself onto your abdomen and she slowly strokes down from the end of your sternum to the edge of your right hip. Her breasts squish against your stomach and fingers tease the waistband of your swim trunks.

“Dave.” The way she speaks brings a warm feeling to your stomach and you look into her eyes again. How she knows your name is lost on you as you feel yourself be filled with this warmth as if you were being filled with honey from her touch.

You find your wits and ask, “What are you?”

“I’m a mermaid,” she says.

You shake your head, “Mermaids aren't real.”

Finding purchase on the rocks, you quickly pull yourself out of the water. The mermaid sinks down until only the top of her head and eyes are exposed, her dark hair billowing out. She then pushes away and back out into the open ocean.

“What the fuck,” you whisper, hands gripping at the back of your head, “What the fuck.”

 

* * *

 

 

You dont go back into the water for a long time.

 

* * *

 

 

Incoming waves stretch and grasp before pulling back out to try and grab you again. It feels like hands, fingers, trying to beckon you to join them, calling for you, “Come join us Dave, you’ll love it here, we promise.”

The beach is unsettling and every time you go there you are riddled with anxiety.

 

* * *

 

 

You visit a new shop that opened a few days ago. The walls are painted in the colors of the sunset, and as you sit in their outdoor seating watching the sky change one evening, you finally feel at peace. Maybe you’ll support this business.

The chair next to yours scrapes against the concrete as someone pulls it out and plops into the seat, their condensing smoothing finding a place on the table.

You look over with a grimace ready to bitch the person out but find yourself somewhat surprised. It’s the kid you lent your pencil to that one day. You remember his name was John.

“Hey!” John sips from the cup.

“Sup.” you go back to watching the sky. Seagulls are beginning to crowd around a child that spilled their food on the ground.

“Have you tried one of these, they’re to die for!” You look back to him, then to the smoothie, and back to the sky, but don’t respond. “Are you okay?”

You shrug, “Yeah.” You let a moment pass before you add, “No, not really.”

“Well, what’s bothering you? Or do you not wanna talk about it?”

Hesitantly, you respond, “Have you ever… No, forget it, it’s stupid.”

“Nah, go on, trust me, it won’t be stupid.” He shines a smile when you look back at him.

You clear your throat. “Have you ever seen… something? I don’t know, like a huge fish?”

“You mean a shark?” he giggles, taking another sip.

“No, I mean.” You shake your head. “Like, like a mermaid.”

“A mermaid?”

“Fuck it, it sounds so stupid! Just forget what I said…”

John is quiet for a moment, then, “I have.”

“What?”

“Seen a mermaid, that is.”

“You’re not… You’re joking aren’t you!” You stand, the chair under you dangerously close to rocking all the way over.

“What?”

“You think I’m making this up! You’re, you’re making fun of me!”

Now is his turn to stand. “No! I’m not!”

“Shut up! Leave me alone!”

You walk away, from the growing numbers of eyes watching you, from humiliation, from John, and back to your saltwater weathered shack.


End file.
